


Out of your depth

by RastasTheRascal



Category: Adventure Time, Jaws (Movies), Jaws - Peter Benchley
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fish out of Water, Gen, Pain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2019-11-16 11:34:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18093527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RastasTheRascal/pseuds/RastasTheRascal
Summary: Finn the Human faces his most powerful adversary, his own ego.





	1. It's Here

Disclaimer: I in no way own Adventure Time or Jaws in any way. This work is purely for fun, and I hope you all enjoy.

“When the Leviathan is hungry, it sends forth from his mouth a heat so great as to make all waters of the deep boil. And if he was to put his head into paradise, no living creature would endure. A pure monster from the watery void.” – The Biblical of Leviathan.

Treetrunks was preparing one of her famous apple pies. The sweet scent of perfectly cut and baked slices of apple wafted down from the oven throughout the house. She sniffed the almost visible scent with a glorious sigh, thick with satisfaction. She smiled lightly, feeling at that moment, complete contentedness. After standing immobile for a little while, she came to, grabbed her baskets to place the Pies inside. The baskets were insulated with a heat compressing material so that the heat would stay with the pies, and she could travel massive distances with them only seeming as if they had just been baked. These baskets and the pies inside were to be taken to a very special party along the coast.

Not only would she be attending, but so would be her husband, Mr Pig, and Sweet P. Mr Pig was out chopping wood for the fire inside, and Sweet P was down at the little private beach they had, playing with his toys, she presumed. Treetrunks then wandered outside to find her husband. The trees that circled the perimeter of their property were solid and steadfast, which communicated safety and security in their little alcove in the forest. Treetrunks then spied Mr Pig exiting the forest edge. His face formed into a slight smile when he saw her.

“Hello, darling.” 

Treetrunks waited a bit before replying. “Hello, sweetie.” 

There was almost no need for anymore to be said. It was all communicated through their faces. Once Mr Pig was face to face with Treetrunks, he cut right to the chase.

“Are the pies done? Shall I go and get Sweet P?” 

“Yes, all the pies are done, and now all we need is Sweet P.”

“Alrighty then. I’ll go and get him, and then we’ll then set off.”

“Alright.”

Mr Pig nodded and turned to head down to the beach.

“Honey?” 

“What is it?”

“What if, people don’t like the pies?” It was an irrational fear, as she knew people would love them. 

Mr Pig came over and embraced her.

“You have nothing to worry about darling. Even if nobody likes them, I shall.”

Treetrunks blushed a deep red, even though the compliment itself was sentimental. Sometimes sentimental was alright. 

Mr Pig let go.

“Alright…” He said with a laugh. “Now I’ll go and get Sweet P.”

Treetrunks nodded and turned to wander back into the house, while Mr Pig descended the precipitous cliffside carefully down to the beach. It really was a dream spot. The beach was white-sand and surrounded by breath-taking rocky headlands, making it almost exclusive to the Trunks family. Due to the nature of the rocks around the bay, the waves never got too big, and thus, Mr Pig and Treetrunks had spent numerous afternoons frolicking in the water with their Sweet P, watching as the sun sank beneath the horizon. The only potential hazard was the fact that the water got deep fast, and Mr Pig had given numerous stern talks to Sweet P making it abundantly clear, he was to never go out so far that his feet couldn't touch the bottom.

Mr Pig eventually made it to the beach. His hooves made a squeaking noise as they sank into the warm, soft sand. Mr Pig smiled at the thought of how much Sweet P loved that noise! In fact, most of Sweet P’s time at the beach was spent stepping on the sand, laughing when it squeaked. He’d often jump up and down and stamp, making the squeaks louder and louder. As they got louder, he burst into even more scrumptious laughing fits than before. It was so enthralling, watching another being so wrapped up in something that gave them such joy.

But unfortunately, that feeling of exulted wonder was not in store for Mr Pig today. As he walked along the sand, following Sweet P’s massive footsteps, he watched as they lead out into the sea. But, Mr Pig couldn’t see him anywhere in the water. He squinted, scrutinizing every point on the beach, until his eyes came to rest on a pair of torn shorts, tumbling and twisting like seaweed in the waves. 

With terror thick inside him, dissolving the moisture in his bones and making him almost unable to stand, he stumbled over to the piece of fabric, and fished it out of the water. Indeed, they were Sweet P’s shorts with visible tears on the sides, evidently the work of rocks. Sweet P must’ve swum out too far, and not been able to come back in. He would’ve struggled and drowned, while the waves battered him against the sharp rocks around the cliffs. Mr Pig could only feel total denial. No, it couldn’t be true, it just… WASN’T POSSIBLE.

As Mr Pig tried to wrap his head around what had happened and desperately looked for other explanations as to why Sweet P's shorts were on the beach, he smelt the smell of a perfect life shattered, a delightful dream crushed. The burnt smell of Treetrunks pies. He turned around and saw Treetrunks behind him, tears streaming down her face. He ran to her, and she jumped towards him, their grief exploding out in an inescapable blast of sobbing. The headland all of a sudden looked dark and foreboding. The sea began washing seaweed up onto the white sand, unleashing an unpleasant smell, coinciding with a cloud covering up the sun, smothering everything in shadow.

But there was something else unleashed along with their wave of grief. An unending force of evil had now been woken, and to signal its arrival, a dorsal fin broke the surface of the water, 20 metres out. The creature it belonged to was of the darkness, and of the darkest days of every person who had seen the abyss and walked away to tell the tale. And either the Trunks’ didn’t notice or didn’t care, and so the fin disappeared beneath the water, as silently as it had appeared.

*************

Finn sat on top of the rocks, watching his friend Jake and the other citizens of Ooo frolicking in the water. It looked nice, especially considering how hot a day it was. He rubbed his face, removing the beads of sweat that had formed upon his forehead and cheeks. He wanted to go in the water, as his arms were burnt a painful red, despite him having sat in the shade of the sand dunes almost the whole day. 

But still, even with the unbearable pain he felt every time he moved his arms, he refrained from going in; or even stepping up to his knees in the surf. He hated the ocean, or more precisely, he was scared of the ocean; more than he was willing to admit, even to himself. There was just something about the vast expanse, it’s dark, twisting and seemingly limitless depths. Finn was the sort of person who liked simple, clear cut information. Thinking about tricky concepts, abstract thoughts, and complex systems gave him anxiety. 

Lost in his thoughts, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he noticed that Lumpy Space Princess had floated over to hover next to him. In her endearing but whiny voice, she said: “Hey Funn, do you want to come in the water with me?” 

The Sun was eating Finn alive, cooking him as he fought to live on. He wanted to, desperately, but… he couldn’t. Couldn’t or wouldn’t? Why couldn’t he? Was it because he was scared? 

“I…” Finn tried to form the words in his mouth. His sun-bleached lips broke and cracked as he said: “I… I don’t think I can.” 

Finn regretted what he said straight away. LSP always found a way of drawing attention to herself, as if every situation was a drama in which she needed to deliver her most elaborate, melodramatic performance. 

“Why not Funn? Do you not like me? I always knew it! I always knew you never cared about me!”

Finn spied several heads turning their way. Finn reached out his arms in a patting, calming manner, ignoring the searing pain. 

“Calm down LSP,”

“You don’t like me!” 

“I like you. I like you a lot.”

“Then why did you say no?”

“Well think about it. If I’m in the water, then I can’t see any dangers to save you guys from. If I’m here on the beach, I can see almost the entire party, and I can protect everybody from any threats in the water…” Finn’s voice faded as he realised if there was danger, he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. 

LSP thought about for a few seconds. She seemed to be looking for a reason to argue, but she didn’t.

“Well, I guess you’re right…” She paused, as if she was to say more, but after an awkward silence, she left, saying: “Yeah… see ya Finn.”

But Finn’s mind was elsewhere. Anxiety. Fear. Concern. Embarrassment. Inadequacy. He felt all them and more. His self-consciousness about his fear was manifesting itself as horrible thought, people in danger and him powerless to help. His stomach churned, his muscles all retained tension. He leaned back against the big granite boulder behind him and tried to relax.  
After a few minutes, his shoulders dropped, and his fingers unfurled from his palms like a flower. He smiled at his relaxation, as the sun gently caressed his face, not to hot; not abrasive. 

Then, Finn heard the sound of feet shuffling through sand. Somehow, he knew that the footsteps were approaching him. He made a game of it. Who could it be? Jake? BMO? Huntress Wizard? Once the footsteps reached him and stopped, he opened his eyes.

Once his pupils dilated enough for him to see, he recognised Princess Bubblegum, the person behind the party and its organisation. Even though the party was her idea, she didn’t seem to be in a partying mood. 

“Darn it,” Finn said with a dreamy smile. “I was wrong.” 

Princess Bubblegum didn’t react to the comment. Instead she flipped through the papers on a clipboard she was holding. She found a page, poked at it, sliding her finger down the page until she seemed to find what she was looking for. She then looked at Finn and acknowledged him for the first time since the party had begun.

“Treetrunks, Mr Pig, and Sweet P haven’t arrived yet.” Her voice was taught and strained, like a rope pulled to breaking point. She was the sort of person who almost never relaxed or stopped thinking. There was always some new problem she needed or wanted, to attend to.

Finn didn’t react to what Bubblegum had said. He didn’t want to allow the seed of anxiety to strike once more inside his mind and grow like a weed through cracks in a wooden floor. 

“Bubblegum, you shouldn’t worry about it.”

“Why shouldn’t I worry about it?”

“Because... they can do what they want.”

“Just seems a bit strange, just… not coming?”

It was strange. Unlike them. They said they would come. Maybe something had come up? Last minute… maybe something untoward had happened? Finn’s teeth began to grind against each other.

“…Yes, you’re right, there usually is a harmless explanation isn’t there? Like you’ve said before, “Magic is just Science, but Wizards just don’t know it”. Maybe this is just one of those types of moments. Something that seems concerning, is actually just...you know… okay?”

It was a weak explanation. Finn had been mostly trying to convince himself, as much as Bubblegum.

Bubblegum was doubtful. Her shoulders were raised. Concern was almost her natural emotional state. She looked out to sea, bit her lip, and rubbed her face.

“Ah, well… in any case, I’m going to get a glass of water, you want any?”

“No. I’m alright.” Finn didn’t know why he declined. He wanted water.

“Suit yourself.”

************

What was going on with the Trunks? Where were they? Were they okay? What had happened to them to cause them to abandon such a special event? As much as he had not wanted it too, the more Finn tried to fight his anxiety, the more and more powerful it got. He looked at the ocean and felt his heart-beat only increase.

He felt like an idiot. It was just a massive puddle. What could it do to Finn? He attempted to laugh at himself, trying to quench the anxiety rising in him from just looking at the ocean. He then remembered what he had said to LSP, and felt his guts shrivel in on themselves, as he tried to shut out the thought, but it only grew stronger.

Like a cruel game, his brain began to make every shadow begin to look like a creature, every bit of seaweed looks as if it posed a threat. Finn stood up and squinted his eyes to see a black shadow moving toward a large group of party goers. Jake was one of them. He stood up preparing to yell until a little Silver Whiting jumped out of the water. A tiny fish, it posed no more of a threat to anyone on land than it did to anyone in the water. Everyone within the water was pleasantly surprised at such a curious event. Finn sat down again, anxiety only growing.

The bad thing was, Finn was not wrong. A dark shadow was out there, and it was very much a malevolent force. It swam along the sandy bottom, its nose picking up signals from some living creatures, no more than 100 metres away. The creature propelled itself forward by massive swings of its tail as the scents strengthened. It looked up at the swimmers, bobbing placidly on the water. The creature moved upward. It didn’t float up, but it didn’t swing its tail either. It looked like a dark cloud, moving without any apparent effort, and without urgency. Its eyes darted away from the group, looking onto one lonely swimmer…

************

“What’s wrong Finn?” 

Finn turned quickly and defensively, as if someone had caught him in some embarrassing act. Behind him was Tiffany, one of Jakes old criminal friends during his time as a bank robber, and the last person Finn wanted to see at that moment. Finn had to restrain himself from immediately telling Tiffany to nick off. 

“Oh… hello Tiffany.” Finn’s wrapped his lips around Tiffany’s name mockingly pronouncing every syllable excruciatingly slowly before spitting it out as if it was something with a profoundly unpleasant taste.

“Wow, happy to see me, aren’t you? Think you saw a monster out, there did you? When I spoke to you, you jumped up as if somebody stuck a red-hot poker in your buns.”

Finn stared at Tiffany. “Yeah. I know. Don’t better things to do? Instead of annoying me? You little prick?”

Tiffany raised his eyebrows matter-of-factly as if this was the reaction he had expected.

“Hmph,” Tiffany muttered as he wandered away. “When you try to be nice…”

Forgetting about Tiffany almost as soon as he left, Finn turned his attention back to the group of people in his direct line of vision. More people had joined, instead of 5, there was now 9. Finn sucked in a breath. It was almost a gasp. His teeth ground into each other, creating the sensation of fingernails on a chalkboard within his mouth. He looked down into his sun-bleached hands and attempted to relax his jaw.

A scream penetrated the still air, rushing into Finn's ears and making his brain bang around inside his skull. He was on his feet in a moment, throwing his head back and forth trying to see where the danger was. There was none that could be seen. Instead, the scream hadn’t even come from the water. It was coming from Flame Princess. It seemed that LSP had whispered something to her, obviously something shocking, as it caused that extreme outburst of noise. Finn kicked himself realizing how stupid he must’ve looked. He felt like he was naked in front of a massive crowd, all of his embarrassing secrets and thoughts broadcast for the world to see. He caught Tiffany's smirking face from across the dunes.

Extreme anger exploded inside Finn, which was only worsened by his uncomfortable sunburn. He wrung his finger across his neck and pointed at Tiffany, which only seemed to make Tiffany more amused. This only made Finn’s anger grow stronger. He forced himself to look away from the smug man-child, knowing that he might not be able to stop himself from strangling him if he looked at him any longer. His mood now completely down the toilet, he furiously stamped away from the collapsing sand of the dune he was under and proceeded to sit on a rock further away, out of Tiffany’s line of sight. 

Once Finn made it to his destination and flopped down into sitting position. His anger dulled, giving way to extreme insecurity. Does he know? No of course not. How can anyone know? He just wants to appear tough. And he’s not. You know that Finn! You know that!

************

Out in the water, the black nightmare grew closer and closer to the one lone swimmer. Its nose was picking up on every vibration, every movement, as all the tiny dimples on its bluish-grey flank sent shivers all over its body. In a final erratic spasm of movement, the monster from the deep homed in on its target.

Everyone looked concerned at hearing the combination of fear and shock mixed together in a deep guttural yelp of noise. Then, all at the same time, everybody noticed the fins of a creature entangled with a person in a massive wash of white and red foam. Pandemonium ensued as everybody saw what was occurring no more than 15 metres away from the beach. Screams filled the air, along with stampeding feet and splashes of water. 

Finn barely had any time to process what was happening. In one quick motion, he was on his feet, and charging towards the water, trying to not knock into people who were running blindly the other way with no sense of where they were or where they were going. 

Strangely enough, Finn knew that his running at the water was pointless. But he still ran. He knew he couldn’t enter the water no matter how hard he tried, so why was he running? What was he going to do once he made it into the deep? Fight he creature? He couldn’t! He couldn’t even stay on the beach without getting scared! Was he running to save a person, or to prove that he wasn’t useless? 

Finn continued to run, despite his brain telling him the opposite. Cognitively dissonant, Finn placed all of his attention into stepping forward, one foot in front of the other. He knew he could do it. Just keep running, just keep running, just keep running…

Finn stopped dead. A small wave had broken over his knees. All at once, his conviction, his determination, his motivation, was gone. He froze in place, as the chilling liquid entered his shoes; soaking his feet. Time appeared to slow down, as Finn noted (Without concern) that his body had suddenly become unresponsive. It was like he had entered into a dream in which he was attempting to run from some horrid force, but his limbs wouldn’t obey his commands to move, and he could only try to run, as the spectre of darkness grew closer, and closer…

In a daze, Finn then looked up from his frothy covered feet, to see a shape, a distorted person, a person who in an almost instantaneous moment - smacked into Finn’s right side, sweeping him right off his feet. Snapped out of his hypnotic zen state, Finn seized up as he crashed full body into the bitterly cold water, face half in and half out. He spluttered and coughed at the sudden invasion of water through his mouth and nose, clearing them of mucus and bubbles until a wave chose at that moment to hit him and the person atop him; dragging, twisting, flipping them through clouds of sand and seaweed. 

Through the hazy greyness of the water, clouds of sand kicked up by stampeding feet and mouthfuls of salty water, without even freeing himself from the entangled spaghetti that was the vines of algae clinging to him, Finn struggled to his feet. Despite his throat coated with sand and salt, he roared; nearly in the true sense of the word.

“EVERYBODY OUT! EVERYONE GET OUT, NOW!”

But the water was already completely desolate. Finn panted, his lungs craving air but was unable to suck in a full breath. He was completely decrepit; sand all over and inside his clothes, raking his sunburnt, salty skin. Salt crystals clung to his eyebrows and hair, while slimy aquatic vines clung to his legs as though they were tomato plants growing on stakes.

Finn turned to the masses of people behind him. There was whimpering, crying, hushed and scared whispers accompanied by loud, bitter screams. Then, without warning, Timothy Tam, a Candy person, stumbled to the water’s edge. His movements were uneven, like his there was a delay between his brain commanding him to move and his body’s response. He came to an unsteady stance and began loitering back and forth, as if he was at a crossroads and didn’t know the way to his destination. His gaze was everywhere, staring at everything and anything as if anything had what he was looking for. 

But nothing did. He stopped, looked back at the people behind him; eyes bloodshot and disturbingly wide open. He then screamed. A purely primal, animalistic sound, nothing like what Finn had ever heard a person utter. He then began to run around and around the dunes, crying and crying the name of his dearest, Mint Peppermint, in such anguish to the point her name turned into gurgles of sounds, barely recognizable as a name. It was surreal, like reality itself was being exposed for the mirage it was. Timothy spun wildly in circles until eyes came to lie on her hat, washing up and down in the surf; a forlorn indicator as to what had happened.

Timothy Tam walked over to it in total silence, picked it up, turned to Finn, and through his grief-stricken, red, bloated face, said: 

“I blame you.” 

Finn didn’t reply. 

In an instant of fury brought on by grief, Timothy threw himself at Finn in a flurry of punches. He knocked Finn to the ground, where he set upon him bringing his fists up and battering Finn’s body against the sand. Finn, on the verge of crying, didn’t resist. Jake then appeared behind Timothy, wrapping his arms around and around his waist, pulling him away from the defenceless Finn. 

Struggling, scratching, kicking, biting at Jakes iron grip, Timothy, yelled:

“I BLAME YOU!

Finn turned away, hiding his welling tears.

“I BLAME YOU!”

It seemed that each time Timothy cried out the phrase, it seemed more and more directed at everyone, everything, and anything.

“I BLAME YOU!”


	2. I'm a Hero

Finn hadn’t left his house in three days, in a state of grief. It seemed with the tragedy that had occurred, everything around Finn had died. He was no longer hanging out with or talking to Jake. He didn’t play with BMO. He barely ate. He could go for an entire day without drinking water, until Jake forced him to. Atop the treehouse was a boat, that was generally used as an observation platform. Finn sat inside it, and watched as grey, purple, and red clouds, intermittently interrupted with flashes of blue and white lighting, approached from the West. 

It began to rain. A pelting, punchy rain, accompanied by hail, that hit Finn with an unrelenting fury. Above him, lighting and thunder cracked the heavens in two. Finn stared into the storm, wailing helplessly, even though the loudest noise he could produce was lost to natures massive orchestral orchestra. His tears were so big and bulbous he couldn’t tell which droplets were his own and which were the rains. He was so lost in his mind and his body he almost didn’t notice when Jake came out onto the roof. In one swift action, Jake wrapped his arms around Finn’s torso, and while the wind screeched and roared, used his body to protect Finn as he pulled him back into the house.

Lying on the floor of the kitchen with Jake brewing Camomile tea, Jake said: 

“You know Finn, he’s wrong - Timothy Tam, I mean.”

“No. No he’s not.” Finn replied.

“We all have a fear, Finn. We all have FEARS. It’s a natural part of being alive. Do you know why we’re still alive? Because fear keeps us alive. It’s a natural mechanism to make sure we’re safe.”

Finn stared, unseeing. 

“And it’s my responsibility to make sure people are safe.”

“By who’s choice?”

“My own.”

“Okay Finn. Just - take this tea.”

Jake passed a deliciously warm mug to Finn. He took it without comment and sipped in silence.

“…Finn, I know you’re planning something.” 

“I…want to…” Finn began, unsure how to continue. 

“I want to kill that fish.”

Jake shook his head. 

“What?”

“I want to kill that fish.” Finn stated again, with more conviction.

“Finn you can’t even go in the ocean a couple of steps. What makes you think that you can-”

Jake stopped dead. Finn’s eyes were fixed on his, defiant and determined. 

“...just, no Finn. You can’t!”

“If I kill it, maybe I’ll be a hero again! Maybe everything will go back to normal when I kill that thing.”

“Finn are you listening to yourself? You are delusional. That shark has gotten into your head, and just because you’re scared of the ocean you can’t hold yourself accountable! Can’t you see that? Sometimes… maybe… a hero can’t save everyone?”

“Maybe,” Finn continued, “...maybe, if I kill it, I won’t be afraid of the ocean anymore!”

“Finn, I don’t want you to kill yourself!” 

That cut the argument short. The prospect of death had always been prevalent throughout all their adventures. But during those times, they had always considered death in the same boisterous way they would consider a minor setback. But it was sinister here. It seemed closer. 

“You don’t need to do this Finn. I don’t want you to die.” 

Finn was blank. Jake couldn’t tell if Finn was listening or not, but he continued nevertheless.

“When somebody bites off more than they can chew, they choke. When somebody takes on everybody’s problems, the weight drives them into the ground. You’re doing both. You’re grieving for everyone, and you want to be the hero to save them. But you can’t… this shark, it will be your undoing!”

Finn still didn’t react. His pure, unaffected, unlistening demeanour made Jake feel as though he was a doll, once loved and cared for by his owner, until was dropped in gutter.

“I don’t you to die Finn.”

“Okay.”

Jake blinked.

“What?”

“I’ll stay.”

“Oh… thank God.” Jake almost fell to the ground in relief. He flopped onto the couch. 

“Want to play some video games?”

“Yeah… yeah.” 

*************

Princess Bubblegum was a hard worker. It was no secret. She had implied numerous times that responsibility negated time for a social life, or any other nice pastime that actually had value to her besides keeping her idiot citizens safe. Did she just call her own people idiots? Oh god, she was more socially depraved than she’d thought. This whole shark fiasco was too much now. She had so much work… and a shark. A bloody shark. Was this some big joke? There is an absurd amount of dangers in Ooo and a shark had to come along and compromise a party that was organised; designed to relieve stress, not increase it!

She sighed. She was hungry. She really could go for an apple pie. Wait! An apple pie? She immediately thought of Treetrunks. She grabbed her phone book and looked for her number. She found it, and was just about to dial, when she received a call from Finn. Surprised to be hearing from him, she picked up. 

“Finn? What? What is it?”

“Can I come over?”

“What? Why?”

“I have to ask you something.”

“Why can’t you do it over the phone?”

“Jake might hear.”

“Why can’t Jake hear? Finn, what are you up to?”

“See you in 10 minutes.”

The dial tone sounded as Finn hung up. Concerned, she grabbed her slippers and jacket; opened her bedroom door and walked through the massive sleeping castle now illuminated by a crisp white glow from the Moon. Then, she took a left and walked up a spiral staircase, only made visible from the tiny porthole sized windows placed periodically at every level of the spiral. When she made it to the top, she felt the night breeze flow through her hair. It was cool, but not cold. As Bubblegum moved herself into place upon the sloped roof, she started to wish she could stay up there. She watched as the stars sprinkled a sparkling dust down upon the land, freezing it in a perpetual state of sleep.

Eventually, Finn arrived. Bubblegum saw him enter through the archway to the kingdom, and even though he himself was not especially tall, he was quite the imposing, striking figure even in shadow. The lines that outlined his body were solid and strong, as though he was a painted figure against a drawn backdrop. Bubblegum then rose to her feet and descended the steps back down to the ground floor. 

Exchanging few words, Bubblegum led Finn through the winding, twisting corridors until she stopped in front of a white door. She then raised her hand to a round contraption in the centre. He pushed it back and forth and tapped it rhythmically with her fingers. Then, the door clicked, and opened. They both entered. The door closed.

“We can speak freely. The walls and door are completely soundproof.” 

“We can prevent another shark attack!” Finn blurted out. “We can get a boat, and you can come, we can track it, search for it, however -!” 

“Woah, woah, slow down.”

Finn stopped, and took a breath. 

“I think it’ll be good if we make sure something like this doesn’t happen again,” Finn spoke carefully. “If we can…”

“Kill the shark.” 

Taken aback by Bubblegum’s bluntness, Finn nodded.

“Well, yeah.”

“I-mean… Finn, couldn’t it have been a one-off thing?” 

She was trying to find a way out.

“And… what if it isn’t?”

Bubblegum didn’t reply.

“It could damage your reputation,” Finn added, noting with a shot of guilt, that he was using his own internal struggle to make Bubblegum put herself in danger. He regretted what he said.

“I mean, it’s only an idea. We don’t have to…”

“Yes.”

Finn was shocked. Immediately, his stomach shrank in on itself. What? He-he hadn’t really - thought she would want to. Finn cursed himself. He had manipulated a friend of his to put herself in danger. He imagined them both, stranded in the middle of the wide expanse of ocean. Him on a small raft, Bubblegum floundering in the wind whipped sea, and the massive dorsal fin coming towards her. Finn would then watch, as the monster from the deepest pit of hell grabbed Bubblegum and dragged her down, her eyes disappearing within a cloud of red. And it was all his own fault.

“So, we’re gonna kill it?”

Princess Bubblegum’s mind was racing. 

“Yes, we’re gonna go after it, but not kill it.”

“Not kill it?”

“Yes.”

“Why…what? -why not?”

“We should study it. Try to get an accurate read on what’s it doing, it’s eating habits, it’s usual prey, things like that.”

Finn was now even more uncomfortable with the thought of being on a boat, with the monster being alive, and grinning up at him from some liquid purgatory. 

Bubblegum quickly asked:

“Do you agree? Are you in?”

“I-uh, yeah, yeah course I am.”

“Good. Well, it was your idea after all.”

Finn’s throat was dry. It was his idea. The whole thing. Well, not the science bit, that was Bubblegum’s. But, he pitched the idea of going after it.

Bubblegum, needing time to create her clone, said:

“Finn, go back to the Treehouse. We’ll leave soon enough.”

Finn, hoping to get as much support as possible on this crazy manipulative adventure asked:

“Why don’t we also get a shark hunter? Y’know, an actual fisherman?”

Bubblegum thought for a second. A few years ago, back before she met Finn and Jake, she had run into a rather taciturn fisherman called Hamlet Fischer. He was a humanoid fish hybrid, basically a human but with beautiful multi-coloured fish scales all over his body and with webbing between his fingers, with sharp deep blue nails to boot. Unfortunately, he covered them up with gloves, as he did with the rest of his body, wearing shoes, pants and big puffer jackets, along with caps over the top of his bald head.

She had run into him investigating the pH of the ocean. As fish were being washed up on the shore and stinking up the Candy Kingdom, Hamlet’s business was dying. The fish he found were toxic. After bargaining with him, they both went out on his boat to investigate the water. They eventually discovered the cause: The Ice King’s self-designed sewage pipe, created out of ice. After bargaining with the Ice King, Bubblegum offered to create a properly insulated sewer pipe for him, so it wouldn’t stink up all of Ooo.

It was probably during this time that the Ice King fell in love with her. Anyway, in saving the fish, Hamlet offered her a favour, anything, and that even if she came back in 20 years, as long as he was alive, he’d still remember it, and gladly do it.

“I know a guy. Don’t you worry Finn. We’ll leave tomorrow.”

Finn nearly vomited into his mouth. He quickly swallowed the distasteful mixture. “T-tomorrow?!” 

“Yeah.”

Bubblegum wanted to leave as soon as possible. Confidence had surged within her. She could do this. She needed this. It would be like a vacation, but much better than lying on a beach sipping a cocktail.

“Oh, okay then…” He desperately wondered what he had gotten himself into, and whether he could get out of it. 

“Alright then. Make sure you’re ready.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow Finn.”

Finn left the lab. He stumbled through the town, stomach churning, and just as he left the Candy Kingdom’s gate, he had to dash to the side of the path, and vomit, trying to avoid it getting on his shoes.

*************

Bubblegum had just finished packing her bag. Her robot clone was getting her memories and personality traits in the lab. She wandered to her bed and took off her crown. She paused, and then examined it. The gold artefact in her hands threw brilliant shards of white light onto the walls of her room, along with broken colours of the rainbow. It was heavy. She found it astounding that she managed to carry it on her head on a daily basis. She admired the turquoise jewel in the stem, placed there to protect her from the influence of the Lich. 

It seemed to glint regardless of whatever angle she looked at it, as if no matter how much darkness there was, it always found the light. Holding it and admiring it made all of her responsibilities melt away just like when she had lifted it from her head. She felt liberated and wished that she could leave Robogum to look after the kingdom forever while she went off by herself doing whatever she wanted, her choices not dictated by her responsibilities. She looked towards her suitcase, all packed and ready, with an extra bag next to it with all of the scientific gear she wanted to bring along. She looked back at the crown placed on her dresser where Robogum would find it when she gained consciousness. She flopped down onto her bed and tried to go to sleep.

Meanwhile, Starchy and Cinnamon Bun made their way down to a pier near the Candy Kingdom, carrying a hook and chain along with a raw chicken in a bag. Cinnamon Bun made his way to the end of the pier, took the chicken out of the bag and flopped it down with a wet splat. Starchy crouched next to him and connected the hook to the chain with a “clink”. 

“We’d better catch something; this chicken could’ve been my dinner.” Starchy complained to Cinnamon Bun, as he punctured the thick breast of the chicken with the sharp end of the hook, looping it through a tyre to keep it afloat. They tied the hook to one of the end posts of the pier and prepared to release the bait.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Cinnamon Bun wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he sure could be encouraging. “Fame and fortune can buy and cook an awful lot of chicken. We’ll be more famous than Finn.”

“Heh.” Starchy chuckled at the remark. He picked up the tyre and said: “Stand back.” 

Cinnamon Bun moved out of the way as Starchy began to swing the chain. He finally released it. It crashed into the water with a tremendous splash. 

“Tides taking it right out.”

“Yeah… can we go have dinner?”

“Nah. Gotta stay here, keep an eye on it.” 

“But I’m hungry.”

“It was your idea to do this. If you were hungry you should’ve allowed me to cook the chicken.”

************

Bubblegum couldn’t sleep. She kept thinking about Robogum, would she be okay? Would the Candy people notice? That’s a no brainer, of course they wouldn’t. They were too stupid. Wait, why was she demonizing her own people? Bubblegum got up, not wanting to face her horrible thoughts about her own subjects. She stood by the moonlit window of her unlit room. It was a still, clear night.

She went to her book shelf and looked through the covers. She wanted something to read, to take her mind off her concerns. Books and Bubblegum equalled happiness and contentedness. Burying herself in a book or movie was one of the ways she assuaged her stress. Her finger strolled amongst the innumerable covers, with words so faded they could barely be made out. That was, until her finger fell upon a book called: Sharks of the World. It was a small but thick book. The cover showed Carcharodon Carcharias, which was the Latin name for the Great White Shark, swimming in the midst of a cloud of fish. It was one of the most dangerous species of shark due to its speed, strength, and size. 

*************

Starchy and Cinnamon Bun had set up crates as chairs on the pier. They watched the chain and tyre attentively, to see if anything bit. The moon was at its high point, sending down an enchanting glow upon the land, turning every surface that wasn’t in shadow a sparkling silver, as if Ooo was covered in glitter. 

The tyre twitched, as if something had gently tugged on it from beneath the water’s surface. Cinnamon Bun caught sight of it in his peripheral vision, then stared at it directly and intensely, as if to make sure he hadn’t imagined it. He hadn’t. It twitched again. Cinnamon Bun watched with even more concentration and apprehension, as the tyre lay quietly on the surface bobbing with the natural movement of the ocean. It twitched once more, now going underwater completely. It twitched three times more in quick succession, until it started moving away from the pier in a quick straight line.

“Hey!” Cinnamon Bun’s excitement was through the roof. “Hey look Starchy! He’s taking it! He’s taking it!”

“Yeah! He’s taking it!” Starchy ran to the end of the pier, watching the tyre move further and further away. 

“Go! Go! Go!” 

Starchy jumped up and down in his excitement with Cinnamon Bun dancing a little jig right behind him. 

“We’re gonna get him!” Starchy shouted with glee, his eyes sparkling brighter than the moon lit sea.

“Woohoo!”

“Right,” Starchy said, now calming down and being practical. “Get the spear ready. When he gets stuck pulling out the chain, we’re gonna trick him back to us with the bait.”

“Gotcha.” Cinnamon Bun said and began to prepare the spear. 

Whether they completely underestimated the creature they were dealing with, or the creature was stronger than anyone could’ve anticipated, something was in store for them that they didn’t expect. Once the chain went all out and stretched taut, it didn’t stop the shark as they had wanted it to. Instead, it ripped the pole that the chain was tied around away from the rest of the pier structure. Almost half the pier collapsed into the sea with a thunderous roar and tremendous splash, plunging Starchy into the water. 

He furiously kicked to the surface. Now finding himself in freezing temperatures and unable to breathe, he groped around for something strong to hold onto. His hand found a piece of splintered wood. He spluttered and coughed, and saw Cinnamon Bun clambering onto what was left of the pier. Starchy looked around him and saw that he was being carried on a segment of pier, which was being pulled by something just beneath it. Realising he was being towed out to sea, he let go, and found himself left behind and struggling in the current the shark was creating. He began to swim back to Cinnamon Bun on the broken pier, which was still somehow standing after massive chunks of it was demolished and pulled into the ocean. 

*************

Bubblegum turned the page. This part was about Great Whites specifically. They grew to an average size of 13ft in males, and 16ft in females. Despite that average size, some sharks have been documented at 21ft to 23ft. Once, an unverified report came in from a fisherman and his son, who reported getting on their lines a shark they estimated to be 30ft, nearly 3 times the size of their fishing boat. They nicknamed her Submarine, due to her unnatural size and presumably unnatural strength. They let her go, concerned that she’d probably drag the entire boat underneath with her. It is also said that the two biggest Great Whites ever recorded were 36 and 37 feet, roughly 10.9 and 11.3 metres long. Great Whites aren’t very selective in their diet. Anything they deem as food, they will attack. They have triangular razor teeth, designed to saw through flesh as if it were paper. 

*************

Starchy swam more and more frantically, his strokes becoming more and more splashy, until he was barely moving. Behind him, the segment of broken pier turned around, and began moving back towards him.

“STARCHY! KEEP SWIMMING! DON’T LOOK BACK! SWIM STARCHY! SWIM!”

Starchy put his head down and swam as hard as he could. His hands slapped the water, his feet kicked as hard as he possibly could. At any moment, he thought, he would move his leg, and it wouldn’t be there. Starchy got to the pier. Cinnamon Bun lay down on the decking and reached his hand down to Starchy. 

“TAKE MY HAND! THERE, GET UP! C’MON STARCHY!”

“I CAN’T, I CAN’T GET UP!”

“YES, YOU CAN!”

The segment of pier was less than 12 feet away. Cinnamon Bunn thought he could see the maniacal face of a demon, grinning up at him looking unbelievably like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland.

“I CAN’T-I CAN’T GET UP!”

“YES, YOU CAN!”

“NO, I CAN’T!”

“TAKE YOUR FEET OUT OF THE WATER!”

Cinnamon Bun heaved, and in one incredible movement, pulled Starchy right out of harm’s way, as the segment of pier sailed right past where Starchy had been. It continued moving, and came to rest on the beach, grinding against the sand. Starchy and Cinnamon Bun looked at each other, wide eyed and fearful. Under the water, they saw a satanic face, smiling up at them from beneath the water in an expression that was surreal and disturbing. The light refracting off the sea made the sharks face even more distorted and disproportionate. From then on, Starchy would forever claim he saw the face of a long dead Necromancer in the shape of a shark. 

Its black eyes had 2 green pricks for pupils. They dilated as it looked between both of them. The fin rising out of the water and moving away, Starchy and Cinnamon Bun realised with absolute horror, was almost half the size of the pier. Starchy, unable to comprehend the size of the monster, and shivering from the chilling night air and his close brush with death, looked down to the segment of pier he had been holding onto in the water. It still had the chicken punctured on the hook, as if the shark hadn’t even tried to take it.


End file.
